Thirty Days: A Werewolf Romance

Scars

Ellie Richards

I couldn't handle that last question that Thomas asked me, It was too personal, too hard to explain to someone who was a stranger for me. I never even spoke about my parents to Seth, even my family didn't say anything about them. I couldn't help the choke I felt in my throat, it was lodged tightly that I could feel the oxygen leave my body. Speaking of my parents was like a Taboo in my family. My grandparents never wanted to talk about my father. 

I knew that grandparents relationship was strained with my father, especially after the first night of my transition. That night was the same day that my mother died. It broke me losing the woman who loved me unconditionally but what destroyed me was the years after when my father would torture and beat me, screaming words that I was responsible for her death. 

Through counselling I had accepted that my mother's death wasn't my fault, it was something that my grandparents and uncle's had tried to embed in me but there was still this lingering thought in the back of my mind that told me I was responsible for what had happened. Why else would my father hate me so much? Why would he slip into an alcohol fit rage whenever I was near him?

My heart was damaged and when I accepted the rejection of Thomas, I couldn't help but find all a little too easy. Some of his words had also scarred me, there was some truth to his words that played on my insecurities. He was right in that I had never been in a pack and had no idea what to do, I had no idea what it meant to be a Luna but it didn't mean that I couldn't try or learn? His mother seemed like a good person who would have taught me everything that I needed to know. 

Even though my wolf was mysteriously absent, I couldn't help but feel that there was still a bond between the two of us. I couldn't understand why though as we both the oath that was supposed to tear it apart. I didn't know what the Chancellor's game was or why he was so adamant that I mate with Thomas. His orders just indicated what a hypocrite he was. I knew he had a bone to pick with my family but was that the sole reason?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I shook my head as I was interrupted by the light tapping of my door. "Come in." I responded as I perched myself at the end of the bed. 

It was then that the brown-haired beauty that stepped into my bedroom. She was a tall lady with curves that only created this extremely well cut hourglass silhouette. She truly was an Italian beauty. 

"Ah Miss Richards." She spoke in her thick Italian accent. It was heavy and raspy and I could only imagine the men that followed her like a lost puppy. 

"Sorry, I have been in a world of my own since getting here." I gave her a tight smile. "I forgot your name?" 

"It's Milana Miss Richards." She replied as she waltzed into my bedroom holding a tray of food that she carried to the small table that was placed in the corner of the room.

"Please call me Ellie. I hate the formalities." I explained as I waved my hand in the air. 

"Of course, Ellie. I brought you some dinner. Alpha Samuels explained you would probably eat in your room." 

I couldn't help but be surprised at her words, I was shocked that Thomas managed to predict that I wouldn't leave my bedroom until I had to see him with Mia tomorrow. I realised that just by spending that little bit of time with him that our bond began to repair itself. I couldn't risk getting closer to him, I couldn't hurt Seth like that. He was the one that had fixed my heart, who had respectfully waited for me, who did nothing but treasure me like I was a prized jewel. I already felt bad about lying to him about where I was. 

I could feel the heaviness of the guilt lying on my chest, when a tear escaped my eye. I hated not being able to contact him or speak to him. We spoke everyday since we met and even before he became my lover, my fiancé, he was my best friend. He was easy to be around and despite my resistance he managed to creep inside my heart. I couldn't help but groan in frustration from being away from the one I loved. The person I choose to love, rather than being forced by some inexplainable and forced bond.